Love's Clean Hands

there are so many sad and lonely people
I ask myself, am I one of them?
being single is anything but easy
so many people are with the wrong people
I am only with myself, but I'm not blue about it
I can always out think loneliness cos,
I know how to be alone, I know to love myself
again, so many people are with the wrong people
I can rest easy at night knowing, it's me so far
how many of you can say that?
the dreadfulness, of no one to talk about your feelings
I can write about it, that is my feeling
it's one of my coping skills, until she comes along
I am strong, I believe I got staying power
I live through all the loneliness and pain
I can explain to myself how I hurt
answering  to a clear conscience
I can love with sympathy every part of my being
cos I know this love allows me to live and let live
life is a journey, each day that I'm on the right path
is another day to walk in the sunlight, out in the light of day
I may take the path less traveled but I am goodness
I live with the knowledge of how far I have come
this knowledge is the diamond in my mind
truth is the shooting star in my heart
a good relationship is to claim love as reality
love like the dreamlike essence of the wise of heart




love flowing to know how to finish what you start

George Waldrop- Love's Clean Hands by Texhobart on Mixcloud

Games People Play

maybe, it's the perfection of hate
the deconstruction of my soul
the over simplification of my mixes
the dehumanization of my character

maybe, it's my freedom of guile
the new-age passing of time, innocence of a newborn child
we were all but once babies of sharing of the common
experience of the forlorn bitterness, this woe called life

maybe, it's easy to judge my contrast of character
the guilty heart outtells the inmost fearful thoughts
the dramatic awakening of the undressing of liars
I pity those who carefully  live outside of this reality

maybe, it's the way those true things make me smile
there is a gleam to these true things that give me hope
the conformity, fact of the matter, eases and makes it simple
burden of freedom, watch and listen, think before I speak

maybe, this life is a play, we are actors on the stage
I hate gay crowded places, I will never learn to engage in drama
I can be apart of everyone from afar, easy light-hearted conversation
well, I can't complain, take it easy as the metaphor of rain

George Waldrop- Games People Play by Texhobart on Mixcloud

Amnesia Is Rare (Ideas Are Common)

1. Who am I
   Patrick Sky

2. Cigarette Machine
   Mary Gauthier

3. My Head
   Jeff Robinson Trio

4. End of Amnesia
   M. Ward

5. 9th & Hennepin
   Tom Waits

6. Visions Of Johanna
   Marianne Faithfull

7. Dwell Like A Ghost
   Doug Carn

8. The Last Days of the Suicide Kid
   Charles Bukowski

9. Bones Bones
   Greg Brown

10. Ragged Company
    Janiva Magness

11. Oh! Sweet Nuthin'
    The Velvet Underground

12. Whatever Gets You Through The Night
    John Lennon

13. Space Oddity
    David Bowie

14. Flying Dreams
    Simon Joyner

15. My Cloud
    Gil Scott-Heron

16. God Is A Middle-Aged Woman
    Ezra Furman & The Harpoons

17. The World Is A Beautiful Place
    Lawrence Ferlinghetti

18. Be at Peace with Yourself
    Bill Fay

19. Pony
    Sara Watkins

20. God Loves Everyone
    Mark Erelli

     

     

     

    Amnesia Is Rare (Ideas Are Common) by Texhobart on Mixcloud

     

Light To The Living

writing is what I am giving,
heartbeat, mercy, light to the living
a curse can clean these streets
sanity of sainthood may work for some
heartbeat, mercy, light to the living
bright shines to the wise of heart,
truth of the streets, fools of sin,
degenerate, inherit the wind
while, the unkind play games and meddle
light living light women peddle, spread rose petals
in alleyways around cobblestones for the ceremony
the beauty is a crime, time will tell
the way she once believed in me
her talk of tramps in the big free city
while, swelling souls sip organic teas
gentle teardrops on their cheeks
the secrets, the beliefs are all they own
while, the degenerate sits sad in the dunce corner
I feel the heart beat of the streets beneath my feet
re-tarted with tiny self-made, DIY problems
while, coal car R.R. bums, spange for whiskey
gothic vamps disappear into the alley
big butt with black-lipstick smiles, stone junkie magic
night street-walk devotion, for a suck
pussy-slut blessing, for the lonely john of depression
while squatter drunk outlaws know it so well
soulful radio voices resonate the street from car window beats
while, pretty boys drink loving cups of psychedelic sin
living in the day dream of oral fixation
wearing pantyhose, glass free-base blowjob
heart break is my room mate now short on the rent
while, petty prophets carry crosses, preach glory
on street corners with guilt ridden heart aches
without the thoughts of all the contradictions
while, newsboys spread rumors and drops of dirty dreams
street musicians do renditions of jimmie rodgers
while, I listen to this yodeling street scene
living in 1937 is safe, it's already happened
come on whisper in my ear, tell me about old-time music
"live your own time, child, sing about your own time"
thinking with what I have been given,
light to the living

of iniquity